"Kyriloff tickled him up a little with his bayonet behind the bush, Colonel."
"Why?"
"Because, Colonel, it was in vain that we called to him in good Russian, 'Come out, shaven-pate!' He did not listen to us, but only waved his hands. Kyriloff was annoyed, and pricked him a little. Then he left his bush. To tell the truth, we wanted to finish him on the spot, but Lieutenant Vassilieff told us to bring him here."
"Somione! give him a chair."
The prisoner sat down, after placing his hand on his heart, his mouth, and his head successively. His expression was still melancholy; he evidently did not expect anything pleasant from his new masters. His large nose drooped over his ragged moustaches, his head was sunk between his shoulders.
II. The Examination
Having, in the course of his military career, served in the regiment on the frontier of the Caucasus, the Major had picked up a little Turkish. So they dispensed with an interpreter.
"I think we have met before?" he said to the prisoner. "You are Colonel Mahmoud Bey?"
The Turk lowered his head, and assumed an attitude of utter prostration.
"Perhaps there is a mistake, and I am taking you for some one else?" added the Major.